The Right Perspective
by Nymbis
Summary: AU. When Sakura is coerced into joining her school’s art club, she never expected to be surrounded by freaks. Even stranger, she never thought she’d fit right in. Akatsuki, Sakura.
1. The First Meeting

**The Right Perspective **

**AN: **I really like high school AUs, so I wanted to try one. There are no true pairings, because my experience in high school taught me that there aren't any definite pairings there either.

**Chapter One: The First Meeting**

Never before had an entrance held an intimidation factor like the door in front of her now. There was such a strong aura of foreboding and terror that she half expected to see some sort of odd, ethereal light source radiating from behind it in a grim silhouette. She slowly and nervously licked her lips, looking down at the crumpled paper that she held in her hands. She read the number tidily scrawled on it, looked up, read the number on the door, looked down, and repeated the process for about the thousandth time in the last five minutes. No good, it matched. Of course it matched. It was too much to hope that she was given the wrong information, and could have therefore sidestepped this entire odd ordeal.

She sighed under her breath sadly, how did she allow herself to get wrangled into these awkward situations?

Oh yeah, Ino.

She mentally growled while her hand gripped the doorknob. Sometimes she really hated her best friend. Who else would sign up for an art club because they had a crush on a member, have to inconveniently work at the same time as the first meeting, and then beg/force their best friend to go in their place to snoop? This was made especially worse by the fact that said best friend had some severe confidence issues with meeting new people due to an entire childhood of bullying.

Sakura exhaled and pressed forward on the door. Ino owed her. Like doing her math homework for a year, owed her.

As mentally prepped as she was going to get, Sakura steeled her will and cautiously entered the classroom.

She was somewhat, okay _very_, relieved to discover that aside from herself there were only two other occupants in the room. The first that she saw was a boy she didn't recognize with tousled red hair and a blank expression who was sitting towards the middle. He sent her a bored stare before returning to a hardcover book that was opened on his desk.

The other occupant of the room sat by herself at the farthest table away. She was older, probably an upperclassman, with a stern expression and shockingly blue hair that Sakura was positive went against the dress code. She absently fingered her pink locks. The strange girl didn't even bother to glance up from a notebook that she was absently flipping through.

Sakura almost smiled in glee when she noticed that her supposed 'target', a cute but emotionally bizarre painter named Sai, was absent from the room. No Sai, no Ino. No Ino, no art club. She was ready to sprint for the door already. Finally locating a neutral spot- a desk not too close to either the bored boy or the cold girl- Sakura sat down and observed the room.

It was a typical classroom, a few pictures displayed on the wall proudly by the more exemplary students at Namikaze Academy, but the careful characters written on the chalkboard were what held Sakura's attention.

_Welcome to the Akatsuki Club._

She pursed her lips, finding the name a bit too theatrical for her tastes. She then felt eyes on her, and when she looked up she noticed that the bored boy was staring at her placidly. Blushing for no reason, she desperately tried to look as if she were doing something. Her fingers scrambled to pull out a textbook from her bag, and she forced herself to look completely enthralled with a chapter on converse convection. After a few seconds' more of scrutiny, she felt the stare leave her and she inwardly sighed with relief.

Just then, there was the loud sound of the door slamming open and Sakura felt her head instinctively jerk up to view the newcomer. She was a bit taken a back at what she saw.

He was tall, lanky, and with hair far nicer than even Ino's. There was a laid-back, almost lazy gait to his walk and his school uniform appeared to be stained with dirt and irreversibly wrinkled. Sakura unintentionally shirked back a bit when she noticed that the boy had some sort of rambunctious aura to him as well.

He didn't even spare her a glance as he casually strode over to the table where the bored boy was, pulling out the chair and gracelessly sliding into it. The red head stared at him in aggravation.

"You're late," it was somewhat monotone, but still managed to come off as accusatory.

The blond winced, "Not my fault, danna, got held up by that crazy son of-" his feeble explanation drifted short when his eyes scanned over the room, thankfully passing right over Sakura's head, "Where's Leader-sama, un?"

Sakura noticed that the boy had geared the question specifically towards the girl in the corner, who stared back at him with detachment.

"Preoccupied," was all she said smoothly, taking the notebook she had previously been flipping through and walking over towards the boys' table after eying the clock. She placed the notebook quietly down. "Sign."

The blond scoffed before taking a pen out from behind his ear and messily scribbling his name onto the attendance roster. The red head followed suit, but with a much more measured and dignified pace. The girl seemed to notice Sakura for the first time, and she eyed her critically. For Sakura, the intimidation factor was palpable, but it dissolved almost as quickly when the girl took the notebook and placed it in front of her. Nervously looking at the reserved girl, Sakura quickly and neatly wrote down her name without much thought. The girl evaluated her throughout the entire process before nodding, apparently satisfied.

"I'm leaving," she muttered, taking the notebook and tucking it under her arm before exiting the classroom with no further elaboration.

Sakura watched her go with a bit of confusion, why would she stick around just to get a roster? Wasn't she a club member? Gathering her nerve, Sakura cleared her throat, "What exactly do we do in here?"

There was silence, and she tensed, believing she had been ignored.

"The purpose of Akatsuki is the creation of art," came a drawl, and Sakura turned to see that the red head was staring straight at her again with the same listless expression.

The blond next to him seemed to notice that she was there, before he scoffed, stood up abruptly, and stalked over towards the supply closet of the art room. The red head dropped his stare and went to the back, where there was a small supply of lumber. Sakura's eyebrows furrowed- wasn't there supposed to be a teacher in charge? A mentor? Something?

The blond boy returned with his hands full of sculpting clay. Without preamble, he sat back down in his seat and began to mold the dough into a shape. Sakura watched as the red head sat down with a piece of wood, a sanding block in his grip. They ignored her presence as they set to work.

Sakura sighed and glanced up at the clock that hung on the wall. She had only been there a grand total of five minutes, and the after hours bus wasn't going to be arriving anytime soon. She glanced again at the two boys, noticing that they were completely engaged in their work. She stared at the textbook on her desk. The room was quiet, and she did have a lot of homework to catch up on…

Resigned, Sakura flipped to the correct chapter and began to skim through the reading assignment. The only other sound in the room being the gentle scritch of the sanding block against the wood as she idly completed her assignment.

After a few moments, she looked up and was startled to discover that the blond boy had disappeared while she was engrossed in her homework. She had no idea why this unnerved her but it did, and she found her eyes absently looking over the room for him.

"He went to use the kiln," came the drawl of the red head again, and Sakura felt rather taken aback by both his uncanny perception and his statement.

"I thought students weren't allowed to use the kiln," she muttered.

"They aren't." He mumbled, finishing up on whatever it was he was constructing as he began cleanup.

Her eyes widened slightly, suddenly fearing for her safety.

The blond decided to reenter then, and Sakura felt her breath catch when she looked at what was in his hands. Sakura was no art critic, in fact when it came to art she basically lacked even primitive capabilities like color coordination, but she could tell that his project was highly skilled. A ceramic vase was in his hands, detailed and perfectly symmetrical.

The blond caught her staring and smirked, walking over to where she sat. He picked up her textbook, and set the vase in its place. "Like it?" He asked, and there seemed to be pride in his voice.

Sakura swallowed, a little uncomfortable by his proximity and annoyed with how he just grabbed her book without asking, "It's very good," she answered truthfully after some hesitation.

He mulled this over, and nodded, apparently deep in thought.

She let out a startled yelp when the ornate ceramic vase was suddenly smashed into a thousand pieces by her heavy textbook, and her widened green eyes darted up to meet a playful blue stare. Powder and shards were all over the floor and Sakura desperately attempted to reclaim her heart that had appeared to jump down into her stomach for safe cover.

"Why did you do that?" She stammered incredulously as she looked at the blond who had destroyed the piece he had spent the entire hour and a half working on.

He smirked, and it was obvious that he was restraining laughter. To his side, the red haired boy gave an exasperated sigh. "Katsu," he said simply.

"Katsu." She echoed stupidly, still getting over the adrenaline rush the surprise had caused her.

He nodded and his smirk grew into a smile as he casually pulled off his school tie and made a beeline for the classroom exit. The red haired boy stared at the shattered remnants of the vase before shaking his head and leaving after the blond.

She felt her jaw drop slightly and she just had to wonder what the hell she- no, _Ino_- had gotten her into.


	2. The Beginning of the End

**Chapter Two: Beginning of the End**

"Forehead, there's no way it was as bad as you're making it sound," came a protest from a pretty blonde simultaneously as a locker door slammed shut the next day.

Her only response was a side glare as Sakura adjusted the weight of her textbooks in her arms, "Ino-pig, they were insane." She said flatly, beginning to walk towards her first class, Ino following into stride next to her, "One of them _destroyed _a vase in my _face._"

Her best friend just waved a hand dismissively, "It's an art club, of course there's going to be a few…eccentrics."

"My _face,_ Ino. You know, where my eyes and other easily damaged body parts are located," Sakura retorted dryly.

"I think you're overreacting," she said, rolling her eyes. Sakura audibly growled in response. Ino sighed, "Not that it matters anyway. You said Sai wasn't there?"

Sakura shook her head, "There was hardly anyone there."

Ino pouted, "Then I guess there's no reason for me to join."

Sakura huffed, "Ino, you already joined. That was why I was forced to go in the first place, remember?"

"I didn't sign anything, they can't make me go," she said flatly, tossing some long bangs out of her eyes. She mock sighed, "What a pity, I was looking forward to spending some quality time with him."

It was Sakura's turn to roll her eyes as the two girls made their way to the class, "I'm sure you'll get over it. Like you got over Neji-san, Kiba, Sasuke-kun, Idate-san, that boy in the library, that boy in your science class, Junichi-"

"Geez, Forehead, you make me sound like such a flake!" Ino protested, jabbing an elbow playfully into Sakura's side.

Sakura failed to completely fight down the smile, "You are a flake, Ino."

The two were entering their homeroom, and Ino shrugged on the way in, "At least I'm not a total prude."

Sakura's face resembled that of a total prude being called a total prude and being defensive about it, "I am not a prude!" she frowned, "And at least my prudishness doesn't force my friends to go to crazy art clubs."

"Still stuck on that?" Ino said dismissively, "You went, it's done, get over it." She said with a bit of teasing in her tone, "It's not like you'll ever have to go back."

Sakura reluctantly nodded, "I suppose you have a point."

The sound of the bell ringing broke apart their conversation, as the two girls then proceeded into their home room.

* * *

"You're going to pull funding because there aren't a bunch of crappy clubs?" The man behind the principal's desk proclaimed in astonishment, jaw dropping slightly as he stared at the woman sitting across from him.

Said woman let loose an aggravated sigh and rubbed her temples, "_I'm _not pulling anything, Jiraiya, it's the board's decision-"

Jiraiya's jaw snapped closed to clench, "You mean-"

"Don't interrupt me," the woman interrupted with a level, brown glare, "And it's not because there aren't a bunch of crappy clubs, it's because Namikaze Academy has nothing to show for its extracurricular programs. Programs that were allocated funding by members of the school board as well as the board of trustees and alumni."

Jiraiya scowled, "Namikaze's sports program is one of the top ranking in the area-"

"The board wants more academically focused groups," The woman said, yet again interrupting him. She shifted in her seat, causing her business like blazer to stretch across her rather massive cleavage, Jiraiya felt himself become helpless as his eyes followed the motion.

"Well, the trustees rejected my proposal," he said sourly.

The woman raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips, "A club devoted to porn is not something suitable for high school students, Jiraiya."

He turned up his nose in indignation, "_Erotica, _not porn. And it had a full roster the first day it was introduced."

"And about as many sexual harassment complaints as there were prospective members," drawled the woman, crossing her arms over her chest. Jiraiya fell silent for a moment. She sighed, looking skywards for a moment before staring at the…preoccupied principal, "According to our information, you only have one academic club here." She leaned forward, causing the blazer to stretch yet again.

"Well, I suppose Namikaze could look at being more…er…well-rounded-"

"Either do something with your academic club, or start saying goodbye to the extra funding." The woman said in a clipped tone, straightening abruptly. Jiraiya pouted.

"But Tsunade, you're the superintendent, can't you-"

"My hands are tied. Orochimaru's making the situation…" she sighed, standing up and preparing to leave, "Difficult."

Jiraiya frowned and cursed that bastard of a trustee. "But if the funding's pulled, a lot of our sports programs are going to be cut."

Tsunade's face softened slightly, "Then I suppose you better work on entering that little art club of yours into some competitions, or start a club that will earn some recognition for the school."

Jiraiya's eyes widened, "We have an art club?"

Tsunade sighed, picking up her briefcase as her heels clacked evenly across the floor, "I'll be coming to check on your progress in a few weeks, good afternoon Jiraiya." She paused at the doorway, looking calmly over her shoulder, "And one more thing."

Jiraiya looked up from his desk, hoping to find a little ray of sunshine in the dark gloom that was the loss of financial backing.

"My eyes are up here."

The sound of the door closing and a moping old man could be heard throughout the office area.

* * *

"You want me to join an art club," came a toneless drawl from the senior captain of the majority of the school's sports teams as he stared at the principal flatly after school.

"Not necessarily 'want', more like 'need'," Jiraiya told him, "We need academic clubs or else we won't be able to get funding from the board."

The young man raised a dark eyebrow, "That appears to be a situation of poor school management, and nothing that would interest me."

Jiraiya scowled, he really didn't like this kid, even if he was the star athlete of the place as well as one of the top ranking students, "If there's no funding from the board, there's no more sports competitions."

The eyebrow that was raised slowly lowered, and the young man stared at him coldly. "No competition." He repeated in monotone, no apparent distress about him, but Jiraiya could tell he had struck a nerve of some sorts.

"That's right," Jiraiya smiled, practically shoving a clipboard under the kid's nose, "And it needs more members. If _you _join, odds are more likely that other kids will join."

"The sort of students that would join an extracurricular simply because I was in it would be mindless fools."

"Now you're getting it!" He said happily, handing him a pen as well, "Strength in numbers and all that."

There was a tiny frown on the boy's face as he read the roster. Some names he recognized, most he did not. "No competitions." It was a question, but the boy obviously wasn't emotionally attached enough to add the required inquiry tone.

"No competitions. The fate of Namikaze sports, no intermurals in general, rests on your very capable shoulders," Jiraiya said.

The boy's upper lip curled, obviously not buying it, but nevertheless, the name Uchiha Itachi was carefully written down on the same list that included Ame Konan, Iwa Deidara, Sabaku Sasori, a name that was partially smudged out with ink, and Haruno Sakura.

* * *

"No."

"Oh, come on, it's just an art club-"

"Art doesn't interest me. Neither do clubs."

"But you're a member of the student council-"

"I'm the treasurer. Their system was sloppy."

"We need a detail-orientated mind like yours in the club, think of all the awards you could help Akatsuki win-"

"How does an art club win awards? And Akatsuki? The name is stupid."

"Let's not get into the specifics, but I'm asking you to join because you're one of the top ranking students-"

"Like it's hard, this school is full of morons."

Jiraiya had to wince at that comment. This one was a tough nut to crack. Time to pull out the big guns.

"They're going to pull funding from the school if we don't establish academic extracurricular."

There was silence for a moment, "Pull the funding."

"Pull the funding."

"Pull the funding?"

"Pull the funding."

Silence, before an irritated growl, "Give me the stupid roster sheet."

Jiraiya couldn't help but smile, the way it was going, Akatsuki would be full of academically driven children in no time and he would secure Namikaze's money. Things weren't looking so bad, and he couldn't wait to shove this back in Orochimaru's face.

Poor Jiraiya had no idea what he was getting into.


	3. The Second Meeting

**Chapter Three: The Second Meeting**

"And that's the endocrine system, understand maggots?" barked Mitarashi-sensei from the front of the room, her fists placed on the sides of her hips and appearing quite menacing.

"Hai, sensei." Several students droned.

"Speak up!"

"Hai, sensei!" It was more enthused this time around, a student up front even putting forth the effort for a salute. Mitarashi Anko had that effect on people from time to time.

Only one student failed to reply to the woman's drill sergeant commands. Said student was the one that Sakura, and about half of the class, was currently staring at.

Uchiha Sasuke. Star student, top ranked athlete, and one of, if not the, most handsomest boys in the school. He was sitting blankly, staring off into space and not giving any indication that he was registering their strange instructor's hollers. Sakura sighed slowly, cradling her cheek on the flat side of her palm. She used to have the biggest crush on him, not something entirely uncommon. In fact, many of the older girls joked that being attracted to Uchiha boys was just a step on the long, rocky road of puberty. Despite her brains, Sakura was not immune.

However, being seatmates for roughly four years had begun to change the feelings she had towards Sasuke. At first, she was a mere starry-eyed girl and he was a perpetually insensitive boy who gave all signs of being an asexual block of ice. But after being paired together assignment after assignment and having almost every class together for four years straight, things changed between them. Sakura was now a confident young woman whose attraction towards Sasuke had morphed into friendship, then respect, and now a fierce desire for his approval. Sasuke, in turn, had become a young man who was insensitive and gave all signs of being an asexual block of ice. However, he had a higher opinion of Sakura than the other mindless girls at the school. She wasn't nearly as annoying.

"Uchiha!" Rang Mitarashi-sensei, noticing that the boy was brooding again instead of heeding her every word, "Tell me what the difference between insulin and glucagon is!"

"Insulin decreases blood sugar, glucagon raises it," he spoke flatly, not even giving the consideration to blink.

"Hypothalamus and hippocampus?" She posed shrewdly.

"Hypothalamus controls involuntary body functions, hippocampus triggers memory. "

"Bicuspid and mitral valve?" Her tone was cold, and she knew that this one had him.

He turned his head to make eye contact for the first time, somehow looking incredibly annoyed even though his facial features hadn't moved a centimeter, "They're the same thing."

Mitarashi-san scowled, not liking that she missed the chance to humiliate a student for entertainment. Her light brown stare drifted to the clock, noticing that class was almost over. "Don't forget about your partner presentations, anyone handing in a late assignment will be docked by half. And don't give me the sad excuses of your partner's bailing out on you. Take initiative! Dismissed!" She said, even though the bell hadn't rung. The students obeyed anyway.

Sakura tucked a strand of slightly longer than chin length hair behind her ear, shuffling her textbook into her satchel. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sasuke doing the same, and she internally debated starting a conversation with him. She and Sasuke had a special kind of friendship, one that worked better for her when she didn't talk to him. Somehow, the wrong words always seemed to pour out. It was a habit she had started when she was twelve.

So preoccupied was she with mentally debating talking to her friend, that she didn't notice him walk over.

"Do you have plans this afternoon?" Came his low voice, and Sakura almost dropped her satchel in shock. Sasuke gave her an irritated glare as he watched her fidget and overcome the surprise of his initiating conversation.

"No, why?" She asked guardedly. A younger Sakura would have squealed in anticipation of a date, an older Sakura was skeptical.

"The project. Tonight's the only night I have off," Sasuke, like his all star older brother, was involved heavily in after school sports programs, and because of that, most of their shared assignments relied on their combined superior intellects to be completed within a fraction of the given time period. Sakura herself was busy with schoolwork from her accelerated classes, volunteer work at the hospital, and her karatedo sessions at the youth center.

"I can only work for a few hours-" she started, heaving her satchel over her shoulder after gathering her things.

"That will be enough," without waiting for elaboration, Sasuke started to stalk out of the classroom, knowing that Sakura would follow.

A flare of irritation quickly came and went through her pink haired head before she gave the long-suffering sigh of one constantly forced to work with the critically succinct. She brushed away the imaginary lint from her pleated school skirt, and straightened the red ribbon that tied her hair back before walking.

As she went after Sasuke, she couldn't help but feel the little nagging tug in the corner of her mind. One that insisted she was forgetting something.

* * *

The reception was far from warm. Treading the waters of the Artic Circle, to be precise. His footsteps echoed throughout the intimidating classroom, each movement sounding magnified and foreboding.

Five students were there, each sitting as far away from each other as possible with the exception of the comatose looking redhead and a blond boy who was glaring daggers at Namikaze's all star athlete. Itachi didn't appear to notice, appearing calm, dignified, and condescending of the classroom and its inhabitants all at once. The other new recruit, Kakuzu, sat at the far end, flipping distractedly through a black, leather-bound notebook. The only female present, Ame Konan, was staring straight through the poor principle expectantly, elegant disdain on her features. Jiraiya shivered slightly, she had been such a cute little kid when he had taught her in elementary-

"You are late," she said tranquilly, no accusation, just proclaiming a simple observation.

"Nonsense," Jiraiya said, quickly moving towards the podium in the center of the room before one of the more smart-ass of children decided to read the time off of the clock, which would then cause Jiraiya to inform them that it was actually twenty five minutes fast, which would embarrass the poor kids and Jiraiya couldn't have that.

On the podium an index card, pen and clipboard were laid out parallel to each other in an orderly fashion. Jiraiya blinked in awe, because he had never seen organized office supplies in his thirty years of being on the Namikaze staff. Slowly, he picked up the index card, reading off of it carefully.

"Welcome to the first meeting of…" Jiraiya squinted to read the name that was meticulously printed on the note card, "Akatsuki?"

"It's the second meeting, un," said the blond sitting in the back of the room, arms across his chest and a sour expression on his face, an occasional side glare being sent at the Uchiha.

Jiraiya ignored him, turning instead towards a clipboard that held a roster, names written with careful, even penmanship just like the note card that was left on the podium.

"Roll? Who does roll for a club-?" he felt the Ame girl's detached but horribly expectant stare on him again, "Er, of course. Roll." He cleared his throat,

"Ame Konan?"

"Here," she was either paying vast, scrutinizing attention to him or had found the spot on the wall near his head immensely interesting. Jiraiya suspected that she was aiming to intimidate him by faking the first, but was really doing the second.

"Iwa Deidara?"

"Un." He said noncommittally through clenched teeth, looking like he was about to explode in anger any moment.

"Sabaku Sasori?"

The coma boy slowly looked at the ticking time bomb, then slowly faced the front. All of his movements seemed to linger and drag in a manner that both forced someone to watch the process with bated breath, and also made them incredibly annoyed, "I am here."

The principle nodded, and marked down his name.

"Uchiha Itachi?"

Itachi said or did nothing, merely remained in place, assuming that everything would be taken care of.

The corner of Jiraiya's mouth turned down slightly, but he quickly placed a marker next to the boy's name before proceeding to the next one.

"Kakuzu?"

The sound of paper being quickly ruffled through was the only response.

Jiraiya sighed, clearing his throat, "Kakuzu?"

The sound continued.

Jiraiya's eyebrow twitched, "Kakuzu!"

The sound stopped, and the only response was a truly acidic glare over the top of the black notebook. Jiraiya, despite himself, felt a tingle of fear and he awkwardly placed a checkmark next to the surly boy's name.

"I can't make out this name…" He said, a prompt for someone to jump in and volunteer the information. No one did, not even Konan, which assured Jiraiya that she really was only staring intently at the wall and not at him. "Naga- no, that's not it…Yahik- no…" he sighed in frustration, there appeared to be multiple names written down on top of each other. He finally settled on the letters that looked most legible, "Pein?" His eyes scanned the room, doing a head count. Everyone had already been accounted for.

"He is indisposed at the moment," came Konan's placid drawl.

Jiraiya eyed her questionably, "Indisposed, how exactly?"

Konan didn't answer the question, once again reverting to the unnervingly passive-aggressive stare of hers. Jiraiya repressed the urge to beat his head against the wall in frustration. After a few seconds of awkward silence and tension, Jiraiya gripped the clipboard, and looked at the roster once again.

"That appears to be everyone…" He trailed off, "Except for…Haruno Sakura?" He ventured, it registered a familiarity, but he found himself unable to put a face to the name. A glance around the room informed him that none of the students in attendance knew who she was either. "Right then…" He forced a friendly smile onto his face, determined to make the most of this art club and its socially demented students, "Well, how about an introduction from me? My name is Ero Jiraiya, but you can call me Jiraiya because Ero is an unfortunate last name and being called sensei makes me feel old." He paused, rubbing a finger over his chin, "Actually, Jiraiya-sensei will be just fine since it demands respect and authority."

It would be nice to say that he held their undivided attention. But that was far from the case, as only Sasori seemed to be listening out of a sort of forced, strained politeness. Itachi was listlessly eying the ceiling, apparently thinking this club to be a waste of his time, while Deidara continued to attempt mental strangulation on him through one-sided eye contact. Konan was still blankly gazing at the wall, and Kakuzu hadn't looked up from his notebook once throughout the entire meeting.

With a sagging sort of defeat, Jiraiya retreated to behind the desk, slumping down in the plush chair. With one last try at enthusiasm for this obligatory club mentorship position, he cleared his throat, "Now, make art!"

He never knew it was possible for stares to be deadpan.

Apparently he had a long way to go.


	4. Churning

**AN **There's a very good reason why this update is so late. No, really there is. A fantastic reason.

…I was lost on the road of life?

On another note, I'm looking for a beta-reader for this fic. Someone with knowledge on verb tenses would be preferable, since I kind of suck at those, as well as someone who would help me make sure the characters are as IC as they can get in a high school setting. Please PM me if you're interested/want to know more. I promise I'm a pretty laid-back person :o)

**Chapter Four: Churning **

Jiraiya absently shifted his head to the right, allowing the wad of sculpting clay to sail over the top of his ear and crash into the wall behind him. Deidara pouted from his seat, getting ready to toss another ball before Jiraiya turned and glared at him, causing the clay to land with a light 'twunk' sound onto the desk.

It had been a rather boring meeting, their fourth one- well, third since Jiraiya had taken charge, anyway- and it appeared that nothing was being accomplished. Kakuzu stayed long enough for the role to be called before he slinked away, and Itachi was not much better, even having the gall to write his signature on the sheet before Jiraiya had even arrived. Sasori was alright, in a taciturn kind of way, as he simply sat and continued whittling on some wooden project of his while Deidara, Jiraiya's number one pest, made goading comments and tried to hit their mentor with art supplies. Jiraiya wished this wasn't the case, as the art supplies were part of the allocated budget.

That left Konan, and the two deadbeats that hadn't shown up to a meeting since the first one apparently. Konan wasn't anything like the sweet little elementary school girl Jiraiya had instructed a few years ago. Sure, she had been a shy kid, all elbows and awkward, but now the girl-er, young woman- was severe and stoic, very cold in personality. Jiraiya was a bit uneasy around her, not sure what she was here for or what she expected out of her instructor.

As if hearing the mental cue, she looked up from her origami to glare at him. Jiraiya shirked back a little in his seat, his sandaled feet sliding off from the top of the teacher's desk where they had been previously located.

Jiraiya sighed again, bobbing his head down to dodge a wad of clay while Deidara swore, something had to change about this 'Akatsuki' club. If they were going to make any progress and appease Tsunade and the board of trustees, severe changes were going to have to be made, Jiraiya was going to have to take a stand and whip these kids into art-performing shape! It was just how it was going to be, if the sports program and the academy itself was going to continue to receive funding. No mercy.

"Alright," Jiraiya said, clearing his throat and standing up to his full height in that commanding way that instructors stood.

There was absolutely no reaction from the room, save for Deidara rolling another non-toxic, post-modern projectile weapon.

"Things are going to change about how I handle this club," again, no one bat an eyelash and Jiraiya was starting to feel a little worn down. As well as annoyed. That never bode well, "Starting next meeting, we are going to have a well-thought out, organized list of activities that will prepare you all for-"

"Boooring," Deidara cut off.

Jiraiya narrowed his eyes at the offensive student, "Iwa, if you don't quit your…your _sassing _I will suspend you!"

Deidara's own eyes narrowed, before he blew a rather undignified raspberry, leaning back in his chair. Jiraiya noted with some satisfaction, however, that he set the glob of clay down.

"As I was saying, we need to start being proactive- winning awards, setting a distinguished name for Namikaze-"

"My art isn't for awards, un!" Deidara cried out in protest.

Sasori didn't say anything, but straightened in his seat, the whittling blade reflecting the light from the outside windows. Konan also seemed displeased at the notion, Jiraiya could tell from the way her permanent frown slid down another millimeter.

"Well, unless you can come up with another way for the Akatsuki club to get recognition, that's just how it's going to be," Jiraiya proclaimed with authority, "Konan."

The blue haired girl turned to glare at him.

"Your job for the next meeting is to find this Pein and Haruno girl, let them know that absence from the club is unacceptable. I'll talk to Itachi and Kakuzu. Is that understood?"

She scowled, not that it made much of a difference from her normal features.

"…Good. Starting next meeting, Akatsuki will be undergoing a new dawn," Jiraiya said, a flair of the dramatic settling in him.

In response to the rather horrible play on words, Deidara tossed the clay at his head with all of his might.

Jiraiya, obviously fed up with the kid's attitude, shocked the entire class by snatching it away from his face at the last second and throwing it back at him. Deidara seemed surprised from the unscholarly action, causing him to jerk as the clay connected with his shoulder, which in turn caused the leaned back chair he was sitting on to topple all the way over.

With startled eyes, Sasori quickly turned to help his friend up, while Konan's glare lessened at Jiraiya with something border lining respect. Jiraiya cleared his throat awkwardly while he waited for Deidara to get off the floor.

"That's it. See you all next week."

ooo

The alarm went unheeded as Sakura lay nearly comatose on top of her work desk, a nice puddle of drool leaking out from the corner of her lips to land wetly on her math homework. The poor, stressed out second year had been up for most of the night trying to catch up on assignments she had pushed aside in favor of helping Sasuke-kun with their group project. And while Sasuke sped breezily through most homework, a natural talent, it took Sakura a considerable amount of studying and hard work before she had an end result that was anywhere near comparable. His subsequent disregard of how much time Sakura needed for her own studies annoyed her sometimes, and in cases like last night, even hurt her as she pulled yet another all-nighter.

Blearily, the girl still in her school uniform from yesterday cracked open an eye, absently closing and opening her mouth to get the odd morning breath taste out of it. Her back and neck felt rather tense, and it didn't take much for her melon sized brain to deduct that she had fallen asleep at the desk in her room as opposed to her comfy bed.

"Uh," she muttered with great enthusiasm, rolling her neck from side to side and flexing her sore fingers.

A set of tired eyes landed on the alarm clock, before she sighed heavily and brought her fist down on top of it. After a few seconds' more of drawing out the inevitable, Sakura stood up and started to get ready for the day.

ooo

"You've got one of the worst attitudes I've ever encountered," Jiriaya said pointedly, not bothering to beat around the bush as he stared at the senior student in front of him.

It had taken a considerable amount of effort to track the kid down, seeing as his teachers had no idea who he was, only recognizing him for his brilliant papers and test scores. It was obvious that Akatsuki wasn't the only school activity that Kakuzu was bailing out of. Apparently class was also a waste of his time.

Kakuzu was hardly affected, "And you've got one of the worst holds on authority."

Jiraiya's eyes narrowed at the comment, his mouth pressing into a frown, "Whatever your opinion of me is, I am your principal and you made a commitment to Akatsuki."

Kakuzu snorted, crossing his arms while his eerily intense green eyes bored holes into the older man, "I'm not going to hold to it then."

Jiraiya faltered for a moment, "What?"

"I'm not showing up, deal with it," Kakuzu said dismissively, turning to walk away.

"You can't just quit Kakuzu! Think about the funding for Namikaze-"

"Here's a thought, how about you make Akatsuki something worth attending instead of using that old scapegoat about the school funding?" Kakuzu said with a bit of a sneer, "Because right now it's only a waste of my time and I could be doing better things."

With that, the kid sauntered off, leaving a fuming principal in his wake.

Jiraiya huffed, that kid was so damned _lippy_!

A silence descended over the man as he stared at the ground in contemplation.

As much as he was loath to admit it, however, the lippy kid did have a point.

ooo

She'd been glaring at her for the entire lunch hour.

Well, perhaps that had been an exaggeration, as Sakura had her back towards the senior tables, but it certainly felt like she had been glaring at her the entire time. It made the sophomore girl's spine tense as her chopsticks idly pushed around the food within her bento. Beside her, Ino remained wonderfully oblivious, talking to some girls Sakura wasn't particularly friends with about the rumors surrounding Yuuhi-sensei and Sarutobi-sensei. Sakura wasn't paying attention, but she caught stray words like 'coffee stain' and 'her breath absolutely reeked!'.

Sakura swallowed her food hardly, trying to muster up enough courage to face her and her glare.

She'd recognized the blue hair, and Sakura wondered what she had done to offend the stony teenager. Surely her ditching the club meetings would have been more of a favor to the senior girl, as she didn't seem to really like Sakura. Actually, she didn't seem to really like anyone, which led to her participation in an art club being rather bizarre.

Slowly, like a lamb cornered by very hungry lions, Sakura swerved in her seat and paled when she realized that her assumptions had been correct. A few tables down, the blue haired girl was staring at her with what one could only assume was a form of reserved annoyance. Sakura wasn't easily intimidated, but when she saw the older girl get up from her seat and start walking over towards where she and Ino were sitting, her fight or flight instincts immediately kicked in.

"I've got to go sorry bye," she said quickly, standing up and not even making an effort to clean up her lunch mess.

"Forehead, what are you doing?" Ino asked with that special blend of irritation and concern of hers when Sakura knocked over her carton of milk.

Sakura gave a shaky smile that didn't fool observant blue eyes for a moment, "Oh, it's nothing I just remembered a study session and-"

"We need to talk," came a low, feminine voice and Sakura winced.

Ino's eyes went wide at seeing who was addressing her best friend, the somewhat infamous Ame Konan.

"I didn't do it!" Sakura blurted then immediately wanted to hit herself as Ino rose an eyebrow in confusion and Konan frowned.

"That's the problem, you haven't been doing anything," her tone was cold, and something about her understated manner compelled Sakura to listen to every word, "Jiraiya-" Sakura found it strange that she addressed their principal so informally, "-sent me to remind you that attendance is still mandatory for Akatsuki."

"Akatsuki?" Ino drawled out slowly, the name familiar but not registering.

Konan seemed to notice the blonde for the first time. She stared at her for a few beats before her deadbeat gaze returned to Sakura, "Are you reminded?" She asked flatly.

Sakura swallowed hard, "Sure."

For a moment, Sakura almost imagined a flicker of relief across her features, "Good. You know when we meet."

As soon as she left, and she was all grace and smooth movements and Sakura felt a tiny flair of jealousy, Sakura deflated like a balloon, sitting down next to Ino.

"Wait, wasn't Akatsuki that weird art club you joined?" Ino asked out loud after a few seconds.

Sakura pounced on her like a cat on a baby bird, "The club _you _made me join!"

Ino's eyes narrowed, "Hey Forehead, don't blame this on me! I only wanted you to go to the one meeting."

"But, I! You! But!" Sakura was trying to find some righteous indignation, but her mind kept rewinding back to that day a few weeks ago, where she had wrote down her name on the paper. She hadn't been aware that she was selling her _soul _at the time, but it had been all her. As much as she hated to admit Ino being right about anything, it was true. She didn't have to sign.

"It's a good thing I didn't join too. The thing feels like a cult," Ino said, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder, before flippantly diving right back into the conversation the girls around them were having.

Sakura groaned very loudly as she slammed her very big forehead against the very hard table.


End file.
